"Sol, what are you doing?!" The scream pierced through the air, quickly morphing into frantic questions. Sol spun around to face the source of the voice. It was Caulot. Even through the young boy's helmet, Sol could sense the shock and horror etched across his face. The sight before him was something Caulot had never imagined, and it was clear that the reality of the situation was just beginning to sink in.
"Caulot, this woman is an enemy of our Lord!" Sol shouted back, his voice tense with urgency. "She's a dangerous criminal who needs to be executed!" His words were sharp, cutting through the chaos as he tried to justify the brutal scene before them.
Caulot looked at the woman pinned beneath Sol, his visor locking onto her eyes. For a moment, time seemed to freeze as recognition dawned on him. A sharp gasp escaped his lips.
"Sol! I know this woman! Her name is Veela!" He exclaimed, his voice trembling with shock. The revelation caught Sol completely off guard, the name hanging heavily in the air between them.
Sol looked down in dismay, his expression hardening as he pressed his steel boot deeper into her stomach.
"How do you know Caulot, whore?" He sneered, his voice dripping with contempt. After a tense moment, he abruptly removed his boot, stepping back to stand beside the defeated Veela.
Caulot, who had cautiously approached the two, sensed the simmering tension between them. He opened his mouth to speak, hoping to deescalate the situation, but before he could utter a word, Veela interrupted.
"You were that boy before? W-why are you with this man?" Veela gasped, pointing weakly at Sol before turning her bruised face toward Caulot, her eyes pleading for answers.
Caulot blinked in confusion, his mind racing to make sense of the situation. "Veela, what's going on?" He said, his voice a mix of concern and disbelief. "Why is Sol doing this to you? What did you do? Both of you?" He glanced between Sol and Veela, desperate for an explanation, as the tension between them tensed like a rope being pulled by horses.
Caulot's eyes widened as he noticed flames flickering from Sol's armor. "Fire! Sol, there's fire! Are you hurt?" He shouted, rushing forward in concern.
But Sol brushed off Caulot's worry with a dismissive wave. "I'm fine," he growled, his voice cold and unwavering. "This woman brought demi-humans to assassinate me. She's a danger to our Lord. We must execute her!" His words were laced with anger, his focus solely on the woman at his feet.
Caulot was taken aback, his eyes darting across the battlefield. Scattered around the plain were several fish-like warriors, some struggling to rise from the ground. The sight filled him with unease as he quickly turned back to Veela, desperate for answers to Sol's damning accusation.
"Don't believe him," Veela stuttered, her voice trembling as she clutched her abdomen in pain. "He's not a knight; he's a tyrant. He abused his authority to assault an innocent woman." She crouched lower, her gaze shifting between Caulot and Sol, her eyes filled with both fear and defiance.
Caulot turned to Sol, waiting for his response, but what he heard left him baffled.
"Again, I didn't assault some whore," Sol snapped, his tone defensive. "Stop accusing me, woman, and put out the fire you started on me."
Veela scoffed, her expression filled with disdain. "The way you act is exactly how scum behaves."
Sol, clearly ticked off by her words, quickly tried to explain himself to Caulot. "She attacked me first! I was just hunting a thief. And not only that, she deceived Sir Terrey!" His voice grew more frantic as he continued. "Caulot, don't let her sweet talk deceive you too. D-don't turn on me like that." He had hoped to sound firm, but the last part came out in a wimpish, almost pleading tone, betraying his unease.
Veela chuckled softly, sensing that Sol wouldn't dare harm her with Caulot so close. "It doesn't matter what you say, scum," she retorted, a hint of satisfaction in her voice. "The Paladin Order will find you guilty, and when they do, you'll lose all your privileges."
Sol's face twisted with anger as he drew his sword, the blade gleaming menacingly in the light. "Not if I kill you first, succubus!" He spat, his voice trembling with barely contained rage.
Veela recoiled in shock at his sudden outburst, but a flicker of relief crossed her face as Caulot quickly intervened. He stepped between them, his hands pressing firmly against Sol's chest, pushing Sol back. "Sol! Don't!" Caulot pleaded, his voice urgent and desperate. "We can take her to court and prove your innocence! Don't make this worse, please, Sol." His eyes searched Sol's, hoping to find a trace of the man he once respected.
Caulot's pleading seemed to cool Sol's anger. Caulot nodded in approval, as he turned to face Veela.
"Veela, please dispel the fire. Let's take this to court rather than continuing this fight," he said, his voice steady but firm.
Veela, eyeing the helmeted boy with a mix of caution and grudging respect, waved her hand. The odorless flames that had been licking at Sol's armor vanished, leaving him unscathed.
"Listen, Caulot," Veela said, her voice laden with urgency, "that man isn't a good person. He's evil, a man who's a wolf in sheep's clothing, and one day he might harm you too." Her eyes locked onto Caulot's, trying to convey the gravity of her warning as the tension in the air hung thick.
Caulot faced Veela with unwavering resolve. "Sol is a good person. Sure, he has his flaws, like any man, but deep down, he's good. I know that for sure."
Veela, noticing Caulot's growing frustration, began to make her way toward the city. As she left, she cast one final, somber remark over her shoulder. "Caulot, you're a good person. I truly hope you don't get caught up in this mess." Her voice carried a note of genuine concern as she disappeared from view. With that, Veela departed, resuscitating the fallen warriors from their slumber. The warriors, begrudging but resigned, accepted their defeat and followed her away.
Caulot turned his gaze to Sol, seeking answers, but found none forthcoming. Sol, however, quickly focused on the thief who had instigated this disaster. The thief lay motionless on the ground, and Sol hurried to check for signs of life. Noticing the faint rise and fall of his chest and the steady beat of his pulse, Sol grabbed the thief by the leg and began dragging him across the plain.
"Sol, couldn't you carry him—" Caulot hesitated before continuing, "—more humanely?"
"No, not for this scum," Sol replied coldly. "I'm going to make him answer for his deeds. Now come on, Caulot. Let's meet up with Sir Terrey."
With the thief in tow, they made their way to the outskirts of town.
The demi-humans struggled to regain their footing, their client, Lady Veela, attending to their wounds. The knight who had served as the vanguard removed his helmet, his expression one of regret.
"I'm sorry," he said, "I didn't expect him to be that strong."
Veela, her voice tinged with frustration, replied, "It's fine. We should have been better prepared." She then slumped in remorse. "I'll transfer the sum as we agreed on."
The fish knight scanned the battlefield, noting his brethren's distraught state. He was tempted to take the gold and leave, but his sense of honor held him back.
"No…" He coughed through his gills, "we failed to take down that piranha. However, I'm sure I can help in other ways." Comment by HaakonElseth: Here.
Taken aback, Veela pondered his proposal. "Then spy on that scum for me and report back with everything he says or does."
The knight grinned and, with a nod, began removing his armor, revealing his scaled body. Once fully equipped for stealth, he departed to scout the area.
The journey back was marked by a tense silence between the duo. Caulot wanted to ask Sol about the events that had unfolded, but sensing the underlying tension, he decided to keep his questions to himself.
Upon entering town, Sol and Caulot attracted the ire of the citizens with Sol's grim cargo. The thief, humiliated, was dragged across the street, drawing murmurs and curious glances from the crowd. Eventually, they reached Sir Terrey, who had been reinforced by several junior squires.
Sol threw the thief at Sir Terrey's feet and demanded a private conversation.
"Sir Terrey… A word," he said firmly.
Terrey, shocked by Sol's unscathed condition, reluctantly agreed. He ordered his squires to take the thief away.
"Very well, Sol," Terrey said, "shall we discuss this matter alone?"
Sol scoffed. "No, Caulot will be with me."
Terrey glanced at the young boy, who appeared intimidated by his gaze, before leading Sol and Caulot to a secluded alleyway for their discussion.
"Why did you deceive me like this?" Sol demanded, his voice edged with frustration.
Terrey responded stoically, "Because I trust Lady Veela far more than I do you."
Sol's grip tightened on his gauntlet. "What did that succubus use to seduce you?"
Terrey's eyes narrowed, his voice taking on a steely edge. "Do not address Lady Veela in such terms. She is a woman of honor, known for her integrity and unwavering sense of duty. Her father, a respected merchant, has built his reputation on fairness and honesty. To speak ill of them is to show your ignorance of their true character." Sol finally calmed his anger and asked, "That thief—was he really a thief? And those warriors I fought, who were they? At least tell me that."
Terrey straightened himself and looked at Sol. "The warriors were fish people from the northern coast of Roble. Our kingdom has had a friendly relationship with them; they were mercenaries for hire."
He continued, "From what I can gather, you must have run afoul of a larger scheme…"
"I defeated them," Sol cut in, interrupting Terrey before he could finish.
Terrey was taken aback by Sol's resolute claim. "You're either a monster or a pathological liar," he said, adjusting his chest plate. His shock was evident, struggling to reconcile Sol's determination with the evidence at hand.
"Regardless, the Paladin Order will figure out the truth," Terrey said with a confident smirk playing on his lips.
Sol's heart sank, a wave of anxiety flooding over him at the fear of his actions being exposed. Caulot, who had witnessed the events firsthand, stepped in to support him.
"Sir Terrey, I appreciate Lady Veela's help, but I believe Sol is innocent," Caulot said firmly. "He didn't deserve to be attacked. And Sol didn't run; he fought them all by himself."
Terrey locked eyes with the slit in Caulot's helmet. "Tell me, Caulot, do you think Sol is the type of person who would attack an innocent woman? Has he ever shown any hatred before?"
Caulot was taken aback. "I—I don't know," he stammered, casting a nervous glance at Sol.
Terrey narrowed his eyes at Caulot's response. "So you do know something, don't you, Caulot?"
Flustered, Caulot struggled to find words, but before he could respond, Sol interjected sharply. "Does it really matter? There's no solid proof of the crime. What's true is that bitch attacked me, and you cooperated with an enemy of the Lord."
Terrey folded his arms, his expression defiant. "No, I wasn't aware that the thieves would divert you. I was only instructed to bring you here."
With that, he turned and walked away, leaving Sol and Caulot standing alone in the dim light.
"Sol, this seems really bad. What do we do?" Caulot asked, worry evident in his voice.
Sol clenched his gauntleted fist, frustration tightening his grip. "We can fix this," he reassured, though his voice betrayed the tension within. "I'll prove my innocence."
Just a few meters away, the fish knight slipped into the shadows, quietly disappearing into a nearby sewer. He swam swiftly through the underground currents and emerged from the other side, where Veela awaited him, standing silently on the grassy bank above.
He lowered his head respectfully and replied, "I overheard him confronting Sir Terrey. It seems that boy might be hiding something."
"I see," Veela responded thoughtfully. "Thank you for your help."
The fish knight sputtered nervously through his gills, "Th-thank you, Lady Veela. I wish you luck in your endeavor."
With that, he slipped out of the sewage exit and disappeared onto the open plain, leaving Veela alone with her thoughts.
If what he says is true, then perhaps Caulot is involved as well ,Veela thought, her mind racing. She tried to recall the details of when she first met the strange boy. Wait... no, that wouldn't make sense. Around the same time Rosa was assaulted, Caulot was shopping for bakeries, she realized, feeling a slight sense of relief.
Still, Veela had a nagging feeling that she was close to uncovering something important. Deciding it was better to piece things together later, she turned and began making her way back.
Meanwhile, Sol and Caulot had also decided to return. However, Sol couldn't shake a growing sense of dread. Something deep inside warned him that returning to the castle might bring disaster.
"Caulot," Sol said, his voice laced with unease, "Before we head back, there's something I need to do first."
Caulot shot a worried glance at Sol. "Sol, promise me you won't attack Veela. We're already in hot water as it is."
Sol snorted in frustration but kept his voice steady. "I promise, this has nothing to do with her. I just need to check something." He paused before adding, "You can head back. I'll be right behind you."
Caulot hesitated but eventually nodded, turning to leave. The moon cast a pale glow over his black armor as he made his way back, the streets gradually emptying as the common folk hurried indoors. Sol, watching Caulot disappear, slipped into a nearby alley, vanishing into the shadows.
Wait, what was I supposed to do? Sol felt a wave of confusion wash over him. A moment ago, he had been so sure of his next step, but now that he was here, standing in the alley, he felt hopelessly lost.
What should I do?! Panic crept into his thoughts. That bitch has me cornered. If I get caught, what will happen to Caulot?
His mind raced as he contemplated the dire situation. He knew that if the paladins discovered it was him, he'd be arrested. Worse still, he might never see Caulot again. And if things went bad, Caulot might suffer for simply being close to him.
I can't let that happen, he thought bitterly, but the question remained: what could he do now ?
How do I deal with their lie detection? Sol thought angrily. His frustration boiled over, and he slammed his gauntlet against the wall. The impact sent a dull thud through the alley, but then something unexpected happened.
Almost immediately, a hidden panel on his right arm gauntlet sprang open with a soft click. Sol's eyes widened in surprise as the panel, sticking out awkwardly, cracked open. It had never done that before. He stared at it, alert and confused, wondering what it could mean .
"What... What is this?!" Sol gasped, staring at the strange buttons now revealed on his gauntlet. He had no idea what they were for, but with no other choice, he pressed one.
Click.
Nothing.
Frustrated, he tried another, then another, but still nothing happened. His patience ran thin, and with a surge of anger, he smacked his left hand against the panel.
Suddenly, flames exploded from his body. "SHIT!" he screamed, panicking as the fire engulfed him. Desperately, he flailed and tried to escape the blaze, but it was no use. The heat consumed him, his strength faded, and with a final gasp, everything went black.
When Sol regained consciousness, a familiar sight greeted him. Just like the first time he had opened his eyes, he was met with the cold, imposing metallic superstructure looming above. He slowly rose to his feet, disoriented but somehow... alive. The scent of the place, sterile and metallic, filled his senses, grounding him in the strange reality. He glanced down—his armor was gone. He stood naked, exposed.
"I... I died?" Sol muttered to himself, still trying to comprehend what had just happened.
His eyes fell upon the exit, and instinctively, he made his way to the chamber of bodies—his bodies. There, lined up like copies on display, were countless versions of himself. But as he surveyed them, his heart skipped a beat. One body was missing.
He stared at his hands, the reality of his situation sinking in. "Was I... awakened?" he whispered. Sol had always known he was deathless, but this experience—dying for the first time—felt unsettlingly wrong.
Leaving the chamber behind, he walked through the cold corridors until he reached the main hall. The vast emptiness of it felt eerie. He remembered calling out to TEL before, the entity that had always appeared when summoned.
"TEL! Are you here?!" His voice echoed through the hall, but there was no response, only silence. Sol frowned, a sense of loneliness creeping into his heart, gnawing at him in a way that felt unfamiliar and unsettling.
Suddenly, like a jolt of lightning, a realization crashed into him—something was different this time. Something had changed.
"My armor! Where is it?!" Sol's heart raced as panic overtook him. He scanned the area until his eyes landed on the familiar sight of the armory door. Rushing over, he placed his hand on the glowing blue lock screen, and with a soft beep, it granted him biometric access.
The door slid open, revealing his collection of weapons, armor, and rings—items that had once held great meaning. Yet, as he stared at them, there was no sense of connection. They felt distant, like relics of a past life.
Frantically, he searched the room until his gaze settled on it—the armor. His armor. The one that had defined him, the one he had worn into countless battles since arriving in this world. It wasn't just protection; it was his identity. Seeing it now, he felt a strange mix of relief and unease.
Sol laid his hands on the armor and felt a deep sense of relief wash over him. Slowly, methodically, he began to put it on—first the boots,then the chest piece, the helmet, and finally the gauntlet. Once it was all in place, he felt whole again, the familiar weight of the armor restoring some sense of control. He checked his shield to see if his pouch was still there, and it was. But something else felt off—something was missing.
He turned back toward the stand, his eyes catching a glint of light. There, resting on the stand, was a ring—a wedding ring of sorts. He lifted it, ready to slip it onto his finger, but he hesitated as his eyes drifted to a set of other rings neatly arranged beside it, each glowing with a different color.
"A fiery ring?" Sol murmured, picking up one of the rings. The reddish hue of it gleamed under the fluorescent lights, its surface textured like flame. At its center was a large, circular jewel that pulsed faintly. Sol pondered its meaning, turning it over in his hands.
Rings... That woman... she was using magic, he thought, recalling the encounter. These rings... could they have similar powers?
Sol couldn't be sure if the rings held any power, and he wasn't certain how to test them. He sighed, his gaze shifting from the fiery ring in his hand to the array of weapons and armor scattered around the armory. Most of it failed to leave any impression on him—mundane tools for warriors like him—until his eyes landed on a particular golden set.
The armor was stunning, exquisitely handcrafted from white and gold-colored metal, with intricate details that shimmered in the light.
This armor... it's gorgeous, Sol thought, captivated by its beauty. He stared at it for a long moment, feeling an unspoken connection to its craftsmanship, though he wasn't sure why.
After tearing his gaze away, he continued to scan the room and noticed another door—a door that felt unfamiliar to him, as if it had always been there but had somehow gone unnoticed. Something about it beckoned him to investigate further.
This door doesn't connect to the hall... where does this lead? Sol wondered, curiosity pulling him forward. He placed his hand on the door, and with a soft hiss, it slid open to reveal a large, brightly lit room. Fluorescent lights bathed the space in a harsh, sterile glow. Sol stepped through, his armor clinking softly in the quiet.
What is this room's exact purpose? He thought as he cautiously walked further inside.
The walls were plain and smooth, almost too clean, as if they were meant for something far more precise than what the rest of the structure suggested. Sol looked up at the ceiling, where the bright white lights beamed directly down on him, casting long shadows around his form.
Why does this room feel different?
Well, since I'm here, I may as well test this ring, Sol thought, determined to figure out its power . If I can master it, I could easily kill that woman.
"Magic!" He shouted at the empty room, dramatically thrusting his right hand toward the opposite wall. But nothing happened. Frustrated, he glanced down at his hand and decided to remove his gauntlet, exposing his bare skin to the cool air. The reddish-orange ring gleamed brightly on his finger.
Fire… he mused. Perhaps I need to invoke a fire spell?
"Fire!" Sol yelled again, striking the same pose at the same wall, only to be met with the same frustrating result—nothing.
"Damn, why isn't it working? How did that woman do it?" he muttered, his irritation growing. "I wish TEL was here... he'd at least tell me what I'm doing wrong."
The mention of TEL made him pause, a pang of loneliness creeping in. Every time Sol needed guidance, the metallic dog appeared, loyal and ready to assist. But now, in this strange room, TEL was absent, leaving Sol to grapple with the situation alone. As his thoughts circled, a memory of something TEL once said struck him like a bolt of lightning.
"I suppose it's more like commanding it while envisioning it, master," TEL had told him once, in that calm, almost matter-of-fact tone.
The idea intrigued Sol. Maybe that's the key, he thought. It's not just about shouting commands—it's about truly visualizing what I want to happen.
Facing the wall again, Sol took a deep breath. This time, he didn't shout. Instead, he focused his mind on the image of flames—how they would feel, how they would move, how they would surge forth from the ring. He concentrated on the heat, the flicker of fire, and the power that came with it.
With his hand outstretched, Sol silently commanded the flames, envisioning them in every detail.
Comment by Skryb: Some formatting errors with the spacing from here to the end of the chapter. I dunno if it actually affects how it'll look published though.
Fire! Sol commanded in his mind, envisioning a fierce flame erupting from the ring and igniting the wall before him. He pictured the fire leaving the ring, burning brightly, scorching the metal surface. He was certain it would work this time—after all, TEL had guided him with similar instructions before, and it had worked with his armor.
But nothing happened. No flame, no heat—just an awkward, deafening silence that seemed to mock his efforts. Sol frowned, feeling the weight of disappointment settling in. He glanced up at the ceiling, deep in thought. What am I missing?
Determined not to give up, Sol tried different approaches. He wiggled his fingers, attempting to channel the energy through precise movements. When that failed, he tried shouting louder, as if volume alone could somehow spark the magic. He even combined gestures with his commands, hoping that a more dramatic approach might trigger the ring's power.
Yet, no matter what he did, the result was the same—nothing. The room remained cold and silent, his efforts leaving him feeling frustrated and slightly ridiculous.
None of his attempts worked, and finally, Sol slumped down against the cold steel wall, defeated. He stared up at the towering metal around him, feeling the weight of his failure pressing down on his shoulders.
If they figure it out... will I have to hide like this forever? The thought gnawed at him, and he gritted his teeth in frustration. No, I want to experience the beauty of this world. I don't want to go into hiding.
He lightly bumped his head with his fist, trying to knock some sense—or maybe inspiration—into himself. Think, there has to be a way to fix this!
But no matter how hard he thought, the answers eluded him. The exhaustion from his efforts and the tension of the situation finally caught up with him, and slowly, his eyelids grew heavy. Despite his resistance, sleep took over, pulling him into a deep slumber.
In his dreams, a vision unfolded before him. He was wearing his armor, standing atop what seemed like a hill, but it was shrouded in darkness, an impenetrable gloom that swallowed the landscape. The air felt thick, heavy with an ominous presence. As he stood there, a single thought echoed in his mind, almost like a whisper from the shadows.
[Dark: 15]
Suddenly, a powerful force crushed onto Sol in the dream, an overwhelming pressure that felt like it would suffocate him. Yet, despite the intensity, he stood unharmed, as if the force had no true power over him. When he finally woke, he was back in the metallic hall, the cold walls surrounding him as before. But something was different—he felt strangely invigorated, as though the weight of his frustration had been lifted.
With renewed determination, Sol rose to his feet. Maybe this time... he thought, the memory of the dream still fresh in his mind.
He extended his hand toward the wall once more, focusing intently. This time, he imagined the fire more clearly, feeling its heat, seeing its flicker in his mind's eye. He thought of the command as he had before, but now with a deeper understanding, as if that mysterious dream had unlocked something within him.
[Fire: 1]
A tiny string of flame emitted from the ring, dancing in the air before it connected with the wall, leaving a small scorch mark. Sol stared in disbelief for a moment, then a grin of pure joy spread across his face. I did it!
Eager to see if he could do more, Sol quickly gave the next command, pushing the newfound power further.
[Fire: 2]
But this time, nothing happened. The flame sputtered out before it could even form, leaving Sol puzzled. He looked down at the ring, frowning in confusion, and then shook his hand, as if that might somehow reset the magic or kick-start it back into action. Why did it work before and not now? he wondered, frustration bubbling up inside him.
He waited, feeling the seconds stretch into what felt like minutes. Maybe there's a delay, a cooldown, he speculated, his mind racing to make sense of the strange mechanics of the ring. After what felt like an eternity, he decided to try again.
[Fire: 2]
A much larger string of fire shot out from the ring, crackling with intense heat and force as it slammed against the metal wall. The impact was powerful, but the metal surface remained unscathed, as if it was designed to withstand such magic.
So there's a cooldown to it, Sol thought, his mind already turning to the mechanics of the ring. I wonder how long it lasts?
He pondered how he could measure the time between casting commands, but for now, he was content with the progress he'd made. The fact that he could now summon fire at all was a significant step forward. Satisfied, Sol decided to leave the metallic chamber.
As he walked back through the armory and into the main hall, he took the time to observe his surroundings more closely. The main hall, which he had passed through countless times before, suddenly seemed different—full of details he had never noticed. The blackened steel frame of the structure gave the place an imposing, almost ominous atmosphere. Several doors lined the hall, each locked with biometric hand panels that glowed faintly, awaiting the touch of an authorized user.
What caught his attention most, though, was a staircase leading to a second level. He had never noticed it before, or perhaps he had never paid it much mind. But now, with his newfound curiosity and the strange dream still lingering in his thoughts, the staircase intrigued him. Where does it lead? he wondered, feeling a pull to explore further.
Without hesitation, Sol began to ascend the stairs, each step echoing in the quiet hall. As he climbed, he couldn't shake the feeling that something important awaited him at the top—something that might finally provide answers to the swirling questions in his mind.
When he reached the top of the stairs, he found himself in a small, cubical room. The space was stark and unadorned, with walls of the same blackened steel as the rest of the structure. What caught his attention, however, were the four doors—each one centered on a different wall, almost inviting him to choose a path.
Unlike the first floor, these doors had no biometric locks. They stood there, waiting, as if whatever lay behind them was meant to be discovered. Sol took a moment to consider his options, then decided to choose a door at random, his curiosity getting the better of him.
He approached one of the doors and pushed it open. The metallic doorway slid aside smoothly, revealing what lay beyond. As Sol stepped through, his breath caught in his throat. The sight before him was both shocking and eerily familiar.
"What… what is that?" he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.